


Family Complications

by steampunk



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sexual Harassment, Twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steampunk/pseuds/steampunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shion's mother is on her death bed, his father left them waist-deep in debt and Shion is unable to support himself without turning to alternative methods of obtaining cash. However, during one of his robberies, Shion is caught by Nezumi, a loose-canon of a police officer known for his rough methods of obtaining criminals and getting them to talk. One night, he takes it too far with Shion and leaves him in the streets only to be picked up by a man who looks exactly like Nezumi, only has more history with Shion than he would like to have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anything you say can and will be held against you

Shion slipped past the doors, silent as a mouse, just before the alarm bells clanged, ringing throughout the building. His chest heaving, he shouldered the bag of precious metals, hitched up his trousers and shot down the street, the alarms fading behind him. His shoes slapped the slick pavement; rainwater soaked the ends of his trousers, weaving up the cheap fabric. The bag thumped against his back and Shion could feel the perfected faces of each and every jewel imprinting against his back.

Among the empty streets under a night sky, faces turned in wonder at the teen hurrying down the roads, a flash of moonlight glimmering past their eyes. Shion was drawing too much attention to himself. Beads of sweat streaked down his face, soaking his collar. The front of his shirt was moulded to his lean frame, his crimson snake gleaming through the translucent fabric. He turned several sharp corners in an attempt to break off any potential followers. His breath was ragged, struggling to fuel his muscles. Cramps were already beginning to claw their way into their rivets.

How long had he been running? Two miles?

Shion looked around, frantically searching for a street name, any indication of his location. True it be that he knew the town like the back of his hand, but his eyes felt unfocussed under the harsh light beaming down from the street lights.

Leaning against the rough wall of an alley, he stared up at the sky, pondering as to what to do next. Yes, he had the jewels, but, firstly, how was he going to exchange it into cash? Surely there would be notices about the robbery sent around town. Out of town? Shion didn’t have the means to get there, nor could he leave his mother alone for so long. Raking his nimble fingers through his hair, he sighed in frustration. Stop thinking about that and focus on the current task, he scolded himself.

Shion pushed off the wall; the steady pricks of the rain punctured his spirit, his adrenalin rush seep out of him rapidly. His breaths became more laboured, limbs feeling like lead. He still had a good 3 miles to Lost Town. Shaking his head, he admitted to his stupidity. After not having been out on the streets for the past month because of a fractured leg, Shion was out of shape, nevertheless, desperate to make up for their lost funds. His mother was getting worried as to why Shion hadn’t been contacted by work. He sighed. How could he tell her that he was stealing to keep her alive? He hated lying to her, especially when she was on her last legs. The thought of spending the final times with his mother lying through his teeth disgusted Shion, but it was inevitable. The small salary he earned from Inukashi was not enough to sustain both of them for a day, never mind paying for hospital bills, rent, or the debt his rotten bastard of a father had left behind for them.

Shion gritted his teeth.

It’s all that scum’s fault, he seethed. If hadn’t run away, if he hadn’t been an alcoholic, if he hadn’t gambled away their savings… if he hadn’t broken their heart, would Shion be burdening himself like this? Chaining his consciousness down with guilt, the shame of doing everything his mother despised, lying to her- to himself.

The rain reflected his feelings, pelting down at his frame, Shion’s hair was matted to his skull in a matter of seconds, his clothes sopping wet. Raindrops streamed down his face in place of tears. His tears had stopped a long time ago. Tears were a weakness, useless, troublesome. He couldn’t let his emotions get in the way off things, yet he was incapable to sealing up the cracks in his heart. A salty bead trickled down his face, his neck, amidst the precipitation. Shion snapped his head back down to reality and palmed it away furiously. Tears aren’t going to pay for his mother’s treatment.

Suddenly, Shion’s hearing twitched. The faint screaming of Security Bureau car sirens echoed through the city, buildings reflecting flashes of blue and red. Cursing aloud, Shion stumbled away from the wall and strained to hear which direction they were coming from. The high pitched wails reverberated around him, and to his dismay, hidden behind the rain. Fear spiked his heart.

Taking a wild guess, he shot down the alley way towards the children’s park. Shion weaved around sacks of decaying black droppings ripped open by scavenging animals, and the worst cases of human shit littering the concrete. The bag carrying his means to food and another few weeks of his mother’s life rattled against his bruised back. Shion battled it out against his fatigue and the rain, the pair of them coming at him at full pelt. His body ached, his heart heavier, the sirens neared closer. Each pebble under his feet could be felt through the worn out soles of his shoes, Shion winced with each step.

Just a few more minutes, Shion pleaded, just let me-

The outline of a car blocked his path ahead.

Shion stopped dead in his track, his heart hammering against his chest. No, no, no. Cowering next to a dumpster, Shion secured the bag across his body tightly before leaning out ever so slight to make out who was there.

The Security Bureau? No, it can’t be. The car was large- a jeep?

Drunks? Possible; it was late, a Saturday night, and just past midnight. Prime time.

Relief flooded through his body. Relaxing his shoulders, Shion lifted his eyes away from the car. He still couldn’t be seen with the bag. The Security Bureau will look for any witnesses, and his appearance wasn’t exactly unnoticeable. It was at times like this that he hated his ivory locks, not to mention that his red snake stood out like a flashing neon sign.

There were another three means of escape Shion concluded, closing his eyes to concentrate. The rain shelled his delicate eyelids

Plan one. He waits until the sirens stop and the Security Bureau gives up. Problem one: they don’t give up easily, he could be out here for hours; two, he hadn’t eaten in two days, his body wouldn’t last any longer; three, the nights reach temperatures below -10 degrees Celsius, he would freeze to death before they found him.

Plan two. He tries to find another way out, let it be scaling onto the rooftops or skimming past the Security Bureau by hiding in plain sight. Shion sighed. That wouldn’t work. They aren’t stupid, and he sticks out like a sore thumb. Sure, they had kept quiet about all his minor thefts in efforts to keep the people feeling safe, but they wouldn’t let this one go so easily.

Plan three. He drops the bag in the dumpster and comes back for it later. Thought this one sparked hope, it fizzled out just as quickly. These alleys are raided by other homeless people every night, and what’s more is that the Environment Bureau run a sweep of all the bins every morning. He decided, without a doubt, if he let go of his taking now, he would never see them again.

Any confidence of escaping was diminishing rapidly. Shion racked his mind for anything logical. Had he been too ambitious? Should he have just stuck to stealing smaller items? Shion shook his head. He couldn’t ignore the increasing bill from the hospital, nor the landlord threatening to evict them. He couldn’t lose the house. He couldn’t lose what was left of a home.

Deep in thought, a restless look upon his face, Shion failed to notice the approaching shadow. It crept up the alley, its figure briefly illuminated by a streetlight. Shion’s eyes flicked open too late.  
Sharp, cold, metal glinted against his neck.

A hand wrenched his arm behind his back, twisting it painfully.

Shion was immobilized in a matter of seconds, a startled cry barely past his lips.

“Look was the cat dragged in,” a snarky voice hissed into his ear, crisp clear even through the rain. Shion gulped, his ruby eyes swivelling around to confirm what he feared; the familiar scent, the expertise with a knife, his speed to render Shion helpless.

Grey orbs glowed in the night: Nezumi.

Shion stayed silence, refusing to give him the satisfaction of catching him red handed. How many times had it happened? How many times had Nezumi stripped him of his dignity? Not this time. Shion balled up his numbing fist and slammed it backward, aiming for Nezumi’s abdomen, and failing miserably. Nezumi shifted slightly to the left effortlessly, letting Shion’s fist fly through the air and used that moment to grasp it. Shion felt Nezumi loosen his grip around his wrist, only to be met with the rings of a pair of handcuffs. They secured both his wrists firmly behind his back, leaving him defenceless with Nezumi.

Shion spat in disgust.

“Heh, so you’ve still got some fight in you,” Nezumi snickered, his breath tickling Shion’s neck. “It’s been a while, don’t you think?”

Shion ignored Nezumi’s jabs. He was never held for long, yet he dreaded what Nezumi was planning to do.

“Now, now, Shion, you left me alone for a month, and we never finished off last time.”

“Fuck off.” Shion grumbled his voice, spitefully. Nezumi chuckled quietly.

“It’s against the law to leave me hanging like that,” Nezumi hissed, the knife against his neck pressed deeper, blood trickled down his neck mixing with his sweat. “You know what I want Shion.”

“Fuck you.” Shion’s concentrated anger tried to stab through Nezumi’s thick armour of his inflated ego.

“Exactly.” Nezumi whispered, sending shivers down Shion’s back.

Stepping around him, Nezumi slid away his knife and let go of Shion’s hands then shoved him backwards in a fluid moment. Shion’s eyes flashed in surprise. Nezumi smirked. Staggering to regain he balance, Shion saw Nezumi’s shadow edging forward but the absence on the knife in his hands relieved Shion somewhat.

Before he could even stand up straight, Nezumi grabbed him by the collar and shoved him erect against the wall, every texture of the bricks pricking Shion through the thin fabric of his shirt. Bringing his eyes to meet those of his abuser, Shion stared uncertainly at Nezumi. A smirk played at the older teen’s lips.

“Anything you say…” he trailed off, taking a few steps towards the trembling teen. Nezumi lifted a finger to Shion’s chin, holding him in place, his fingers digging into Shion’s soft skin. Nezumi’s thumb brushed over Shion’s snake; he bit his lip to hold in a gasp. He leaned forward, their noses inches apart. “Anything you say, can and will be held against you…” he finished in a sultry voice, Shion couldn’t ignore. He felt himself tense involuntarily.

“Nezumi, wa-”

Without warning, Nezumi lunged forward, crashing his lips against those of the younger teen. Shion’s eyes widened in shock, his body frozen as a thousand memories flooded his mind. Nezumi leaning over the interrogation table. Nezumi kissing him harshly, his lips attacking Shion’s half open mouth. Himself struggling against Nezumi’s strong hold. Nezumi’s body pressed against his; Nezumi’s hands burning his body. The pain, fear, and confusion he left behind every time they were together chipped away at his frail heart. Shion’s legs weakened as he felt Nezumi’s lips ravage his roughly, the other teen’s expertise made Shion’s stomach churn in a yearning and revulsion. A wave of disgust and excitement washed over Shion when Nezumi’s tongue brushed over his lips. The pepper haired boy pressed his body closer to Shion, trapping Shion between his legs, their chests pressed together. Shion gasped as he felt Nezumi’s leg rub against his. Taking advantage of this, Nezumi slipped his tongue inside Shion’s mouth, exploring into well-known territory.

A smirk played at Nezumi’s lips when he felt Shion fight back, but Nezumi was stronger. Shion felt himself be dominated by Nezumi, his mind fuzzing and fading. Nezumi’s hand strays from Shion’s chin down to his chest. He could feel everything Shion had beneath the moulded shirt and trousers; Shion had felt this exposed, this vulnerable before, and he hated it. Old memories searing his mind, pleas formed at his lips, muffled by the other’s. Try as best he might, Shion only felt himself being pushed harder against the wall by the charcoal haired teen. Tears sprung to his eyes when he felt Nezumi rub harder against his area, the shame of being this easily taken burned through Shion. Why wouldn’t Nezumi just put him in jail? Shion choked back a sob as Nezumi’s hands trailed lower, the other fumbling with Shion’s buttons.

No! Shion screamed into Nezumi’s mouth only to be stifled. Rivers streamed down his cheeks, he could no longer hold himself up. Nezumi was still savaging his lips; the older boy unaware of Shion’s light headedness, the boy was running out of oxygen. Shion felt the world fade, black spots clouding his vision. He pushed his shoulders against Nezumi’s in a futile attempt to push him away. Nezumi only kissed back harder, thinking Shion was trying to encourage him. Using the last of his might, Shion fought back some control of his body. His mind edging on darkness, he bit down on Nezumi’s tongue hard enough to taste a coppery liquid. Nezumi pulled away instantly, and Shion gasped, sucking in all the air he could. He was too relieved to breathe that he didn’t notice Nezumi’s knee until it was too late.

Shion felt like a thousand bantering rams had attacked his stomach, he doubled over and spat out blood. The pain fuzzed his mind, clouding over as Nezumi struck his cheek hard. Shion’s head snapped to the right. To the left. To the right. With every punch of his flesh he could feel his consciousness drift away. Shion couldn't keep his balance any longer, his legs buckled and he fell to the ground, bashing his head against the brick wall, leaving behind a wet streak of blood as his body slumped to the ground.

I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me, Shion thought dully. Hadn’t he already taken my life a thousand times before? What more have I got left in me that he could possibly take? A choked sob erupted from Shion’s chest. The tears were flowing freely. Nezumi had taken a chisel and hammered into his heart, careless, destructive, irreversibly. Shion’s body shook as he waited for the metal bullet to tear through his head. Or would Nezumi make it painful; last for hours?

Shion felt Nezumi's presence towering over him. Through blurry eyes Shion saw Nezumi’s figure crouch down level with his own body. Tensing, he expected Nezumi to kiss him again, to touch him, anything, for what does he exactly hold back on?

“You’re going to give me the jewels.” Nezumi muttered into Shion’s ear, drawing close to him. Nezumi’s digits fingered the straps of the bag carefully, pulling then letting go. The painful flick of the strap echoed through Shion’s chest.

“A-r-ght.” Shion mumbled, his words could no longer take form in his abused mouth.

“I didn’t hear you quite right.” Nezumi jeered harshly, his voice like the knives themselves. Shion spat out a mixture of blood and saliva onto the street, inches away from Neuzmi’s shoes. The other teen flinched, his eyes narrowing.

“Ta- take it,” Shion uttered, defeated. It felt like minutes before the other teen reacted. Shion’s torso scorched under the touch of Nezumi. He bag was shortly ripped from Shion and onto the shoulders of Nezumi. The other boy stood up and dusted his hands. Shion winced at every movement waiting for the next blow to come. A smirk of power, dominance, and glee worked its way into Nezumi’s lips.

Shion couldn’t keep conscious any longer, his body had given up. His limbs were numb, disconnected and unresponsive. He felt feeble like never before. Looking up at the boy he had once trusted, Shion caught sight of a running figure in the distance towards him, and then blacked out.


	2. Familiar Faces, Worn Out Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shion comes to in a strange room met by the last person he wants to see.

There were shadows flittering across Shion’s closed eyelids. His eyes flickered towards them like moths to a bulb, darting around until his head hurt too much. Opening his eyes to slits, Shion took in the dim lights that swayed above. His vision was split in two, the images merged then settled. A cold rag was placed on his forehead, a hand caressing his hair.

“Mum?” Shion rasped, desperately trying to catch sight of who was there. His throat felt raw, the air grating against his words, or rather every breath. Shion tried to turn his head around, to catch a glimpse of who it could be, but even at the slightest movements, a searing pain shot through his tendons. A thought struck Shion. Had he fractured his neck?

Shion started trembling involuntarily. No, no, no. The last thing he remembered was… was… Nezumi.

A cry ripped out of his chest, the previous night’s happenings were drowning him in hot oil. His body felt dirty, sick, broken. But hadn’t it already? Did he really think he could fix himself? How many more times will he live in vain thinking that he is stronger than Nezumi? His eyes leaked a salty solution, collecting in his ears.

A thumb wiped over his cheeks, clearing away his tears. Shion’s eyes snapped open, his breath hitched.

No, no, no. Anything but this, please, just not… not…

Him.                                                                                                       

“Shion?” Nezumi asked, a worried look masking his face. Shion couldn’t look away. The boy who had beaten him, assaulted him, and violated him was… was… nursing him.

Shion leapt up and threw up over the edge of the bed before passing out again, his body slumped over, globs of slimy semi-digested lumps clinging to his shirt.

 

* * *

 

When Shion woke again his head throbbed against a cool flannel. He was still in the same room that he had woken up in, but it was empty. A breeze across his chest brought to his attention his lack of clothes. Other than a pair of shorts, he was wearing nothing.

But that was the least of his concerns. Frantically looking around, Shion’s eyes scoured the room, trying to get an idea of who lived there. It couldn’t have been that bastard. Shion had just been scared and his mind wasn’t working properly. He had been having illusions, yes, that was it. Yet the place was unfamiliar. He couldn’t match it to any of his friends’ homes, and nor was it his. The walls were lined with bookshelves, each filled to the brim with old, hardback, leather-bound books. In the middle of the room was a stove; simple but effective, Shion thought. It heated the room, or as much of it as he could see. There were no windows, just one door- no, two. Swinging his legs out from under the superfibre blanket that had been placed over him, Shion let his feet find the floor and carefully stood up, still unsure of his current physical state.

The floor was covered in a thin film of worn out carpet that felt coarse under his bare feet. In the silence that bathed the room, Shion heard the tiny scurrying of mice, or rats. Why was that bothering him now?

Shion couldn’t support himself properly and stumbled around the room to find a way to escape. The wet rag fell from his forehead and damp strands of hair fell over his eyes. Brushing them aside, Shion shuffled toward the door next to the bed. As the minutes passed by, Shion’s senses heightened. The room became clearer; every stain and bullet hole in the walls was amplified in his mind. What was this place?

As he hobbled nearer the door, his ears popped, and the sound of rushing water seeped out the door. A bath? He could feel the steam filtering through the seams of the door frame, the steady sounds someone was sloshing in the water inside. Shion’s heart quickened. Was it… was it really Nezumi? No, he wouldn’t leave his guard down. Shion knew him well enough to know that at least, if anything.

Shion thought back to the days when they were younger, neighbours in Lost Town even. He had known Nezumi and his mother to live alone, like he had been –both their fathers missing. For those 2 years that Nezumi had lived there, their friendship had sky rocketed, they were brothers if anything. Shion remember the time he had casually mentioned this to Nezumi, only to have the older boy quickly lose his temper and storm away.

What do you know? He had screamed at Shion, pushed him to the ground and run off. That was a week before they moved away. In that time Shion hadn’t tried to find out about where Nezumi had gone, nor had they kept in contact. And now, 4 years later, after Shion’s mother had fallen ill and Shion had reverted to other means of funds, Nezumi turned up. Not only did he turn up, but he had changed to the point that Shion didn’t even recognize him. The boy had filled the hole he had left all those years ago with a heavy burning stone.

Shion blinked rapidly, snapping out of his thoughts. His legs cramped painfully as they tried to support his weight. Leaning against the wall, he breathed heavily, waiting for the pain to reside, for it felt like all the gravity on the planet was focussed on his legs and for the life of him he couldn’t move them.

“You look constipated.” A voice rang out. Shion snapped awake, startled, and fell backward. There was a chain of thumps as a pile of books cascaded down on him. Shion looked up, his hands trembled as his fears were confirmed. He knew that voice; his nightmares were plagued with those tones.

Charcoal hair hung loosely around his shoulders, still damp from a bath. A towel was draped over his head, as he rubbed it softly. Towering over him, dark grey eyes glinted down in the dim light, a smile playing at his lips.

Nezumi.

“Stay back!” Shion cried, forcing himself against the wall. His eyes darted around furiously looking for a way to reach the door. His hands wrapped around a book and he held it poised in front of him, ready to attack if that bastard made the slightest movement.

“Alright, alright.” Nezumi said lightly, holding up his hands in defeat. He looked down at Shion, confusion filling his eyes- eyes that Shion couldn’t bear to meet. He watched the other teen back up, and carefully sit down on the chair by the piano. Next to the door.

Gritting his teeth, Shion stood up shakily and edged as far away from the other boy as possible. He wasn’t going to let him touch him; he wasn’t going to succumb to his wishes. He had had it. How dare he assault him like that just hours before then to act like a completely different person now- nursing him, being- being- he couldn’t put it into words. He felt disgusted.

“Shion are you-” Nezumi tried again, a crease of worry etched into his forehead.

“Shut up! Just shut up!” Shion shouted, holding the book in front of him as a barrier. He needed to get out, he needed to get back to him mother. He needed to find out what the sonovabitch wanted.

“Just… Just tell me what you want,” he stammered.

“Nothing, I-”

“Stop lying to me! Nothing! You say nothing?! Is that what you’ve wanted all these months?! Is nothing what you wanted yesterday?!” Shion shrieked, his eyes screwed tight, fighting off the flashes of memory. “Don’t you dare say nothing, you twisted shitbag!”

“Woah, Shion, calm down. I have no idea of what you’re talking about.” Nezumi said uncertainly, keeping his voice steady.

“Oh of course you don’t! I mean why would you right?! I’m nothing to a bastard like you, right?! I’m just scum to you! Shit under your shoes!”

“No, wait.” Nezumi edged towards Shion, his arms outstretched. Shion backed up, fear working its way into his being, taking over, taking control.

“I said stay away! Stay away!” screaming, he kept screaming. He couldn’t stop. He wanted to drown out the voice that was trying to calm him down. The voice that had whispered cruel things into his ears, his mind, his soul.

Nezumi kept coming, backing Shion against the wall, then grabbed his arms and twisted, making him drop the book, but Shion kicked out hitting Nezumi in the knees with a short but powerful outburst. He collapsed onto one knee and let Shion go. Taking this moment of freedom, Shion staggered toward the door, tripping on several books. When he was just inches away, Shion’s foot caught on the leg of the table and he went head first towards the piano. The clang of shaken keys echoed throughout the room followed by a heavy thud as Shion’s unconscious body fell to the ground. 

Nezumi looked down at the unconscious boy in front of him and sighed. Had he still been in confusion from the night before? He had found him in pretty bad condition, beat up and frozen in that alley. Nezumi hadn’t even a chance to chase the guy who did that Shion. If only he had gotten there earlier. He cursed under his breath.

Having found Shion in such a sorry state, he had brought him back to his apartment he had rented out from a friend. Running into Shion had been a real change of luck, but to find him like that scared Nezumi. It didn’t help his theory to have Shion react to him like that. He bit his lip wishing what he was thinking to not be true. Nezumi glanced back at the teen. Shion’s face was red, sweat matting his hair. In just a pair of short, he looked broken splayed on the floor like that.

Slipping one arm around Shion’s back, the other under his knees, Nezumi lifted Shion up and placed him on the bed. There was nothing he could do until he found out what was happening, or rather happened to Shion, and he wasn’t talking about the drastic change of appearance. Nezumi traced the red snake over Shion’s torso. It trailed down Shion’s left leg, and his arms.

What had happened to the boy whilst he was away?

* * *

 

Shion woke up for the third time that day, and found Nezumi sitting next to him absorbed in a book. Instead of making a fuss, Shion observed the monster, trying to find an ulterior motive to why he was being treated like this. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make any sense at all.

Nezumi’s eyes flickered over to Shion, catching him in the act. He shut his book and placed it carefully to the side. Gracefully.

“You’re awake, again.” Neuzmi noted. Shion was about to sit up when he saw Nezumi hold up his hands in surrender. “I’m not going to do anything to you.”

“And why should I believe you of all people?” Shion asked sceptically, narrowing his eyes. There was something different about Nezumi but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Because we’ve known each other since we were ten.” Nezumi said with a slight laugh, it faded quickly. “Well, minus these past three years.”

“Four.” Shion muttered. Angrily.

“Three, four, whatever.” Nezumi waved off. “What’s important is that I found you, after all this time. To be honest I wasn’t planning on even trying to make contact sine I’m only here for a while, but you know what, this is great.”

Shion stared in confusion. Who was this person? What was he talking about?

“Well, I’ll let you get dressed and we can talk more after dinner.” He concluded, clapping his hands together. Shion caught a white shirt, an oversize blue cardigan and a pair of brown trousers. He stared at the clothes, wondering if there was a catch. He looked back at the other boy who was stirring a crusted grey pot over the stove. Shion couldn’t comprehend what was happening but decided to make the most of it until he could find a way of escaping.

He would play this twisted game.

Shion turned away from Nezumi and tried the cardigan around his hips, then slipped down his shorts. Thankfully, he was still wearing his boxers. Dressed in under a minute, he folded up the shorts and draped them over the sofa. Realizing what he was doing, Shion scolded himself in anger, and threw them into the corner. Like hell he was going to act civil in this bastard’s house. Like hell he would give him an ounce of respect.

“Calm down,” Nezumi said softly, leaving the pot to pick up the shorts. He shook them out, dust flying everywhere, then laid them down on the bed. “This place isn’t the cleanest, I must admit, but it’s what I’ve got for now. Do people don’t go throwing my clothes into dirty corners. Cleaning water costs too you know.” He let a sigh. Shion found this unusual. Observing Nezumi return to the pot, he decided that he would watch him, note the little details that were so different from the person who had been abusing him this past year.

Was it possible that Nezumi had a split personality?

Anything I possible right now, Shion guessed, taking a bowl of piping hot soup from nezumi’s extended arms and blew over it.

“How do I know this isn’t poisoned?” he asked, completely serious.

Nezumi smiled and shook his head in disbelief.

“What, did you put in some sort of drug instead?” Shion sniffed the bowl. “let me guess, aphrodisiac? No, wait, maybe Crocin or Melanotan. I wouldn’t put anything past you.” He spat.

Nezumi stared at the boy’s paranoia, abashed and confused as to why he was suggesting such sexual drugs.

“No-thing of th-the sort,” Nezumi stammered, regaining his line of thought. Shion still refused to pick up the spoon. Rolling his eyes, Nezumi leaned forward and scooped up a spoonful then tipped it into his own mouth. The warm liquid washed down his throat.

“Really, other than being a tad bit too spicy, it’s fine,” he confirmed. Shion reclaimed the spoon and lapped a millilitre with the tip of this tongue. It shot back in just as fast.

“Hot,” he mumbled, sandwiching his tongue between his teeth to stop the pain. Trying again, to his dismay, the soup tasted fine. Very good in fact, and it beat the stale bread he had been eating the past few weeks. It warmed him up inside, the spices burning the back of his throat. Shion emptied the bowl in seconds. Nezumi watched in fascination.

“Well, you at least that hasn’t changed about you.” He stated with a laugh. Shion tried to stop his lips from twitching. Nezumi’s laughter had always been contagious, but to laugh with him felt like betrayal of his own will.

Shion pursed his lips, and stared down at the bowl. He had heard Nezumi laugh several times since they had met again last year. Deep, cracked, and hollow inside. A laugh that fed off his misery, yet Nezumi’s laugh filled his heart with a warm glow. He couldn’t understand what was happening. How could that monster have such a soft, calming laugh? Why does he throw his head back with ease, creases at the sides of his eyes? Why is he laughing so happily?

“Stop!” Shion shouted. “Just stop it! I don’t know what you’re trying to do to me, but just let me go! Wasn’t yesterday enough? Are you trying to confuse me then use that to your advantage?!” Shion’s voice rose.

“Shion, I was just laughing. Jeez, man, calm down.” Nezumi said, slightly annoyed at the younger teen now.

“No, I won’t calm down! Tell me what you want! If it’s ‘nothing’ then just let me go! I don’t want to be here. Let me go, let me go, let me go,” Shion choked up, tears streaming down his cheeks hitting the empty bowl with a dull pang.

“Shion, what happened to you?” Nezumi asked, softly.

“What happened to me?!” Shion cried hysterically, “What happened to YOU?! How dare you ask such a question, you shithead!”

“Okay, Shion. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but just let me make this clear.” Nezumi said, visibly restraining himself from punching Shion. “We. Met. Hours. Ago. I have a vague idea of why you’re acting like a paranoid twat, so let me explain.”

Shion silenced himself. Palming his tears, he drew his feet onto the sofa edge and rested his chin between his knees. His mind was reeling. Met hours ago? How many more lies was he going to spout?

“I… I think you’ve met my tw… twin.”

**Author's Note:**

> I got the Idea from a Fall Out Boy song.  
> I can't really write smut so I kept it T-rated.


End file.
